


John didn't imagine this Christmas

by Anihan (Nakagami)



Category: Sherlock (TV), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Adorability Abounds, Fluff, M/M, Sherlock is a cupcake, The kids aren't mine, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 15:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakagami/pseuds/Anihan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluffity fluff fluffuff, with Q being the best uncle ever, and John and Sherlock playing along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	John didn't imagine this Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [That brolly isn't childproof](https://archiveofourown.org/works/724405) by [Calire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calire/pseuds/Calire). 



> Lestrade's children and the idea for the plot were inspired by/taken from That brolly isn't childproof by Calire, posted with the author's permission.

Q didn't waste time with pleasantries or niceties. He had a role to play and he was more than apt at playing it. Perhaps the attire was closer to that of a movie star emulating a spy novella than that of an actual Double-O Agent, but although he found his appearance dubitable one could hardly fault his audience for being impressed all the same. (Discounting Mycroft and his security teams that all of them had doubtless witnessed trailing any or all of them at some point, Q doubted any of the gathered family had actually seen a Double-O in person. Well, maybe Sherlock.)

Sherlock, who was too busy playing footsy with John Watson to even notice Q staring. The duo bickered pleasantly, just enough to amuse the kids, and Q recalled briefly that Sherlock truly was a fantastic actor but that expression, that devoted smile? That was all real. He had to hide a smirk.

Time to join the fray.

The Quartermaster strode into the Holmes Family Estate (capital letters required) like a batallion striking a blockade with 'all the force of a great typhoon'. (Or so the youngest two of the Holmes Clan around the Christmas tree were singing, led in song by the eldest of the new Holmeses, their father, a Detective Inspector Gregory soon-to-be-née Lestrade. Q smirked again.) His boots clicked with each step, another thing his agents couldn't afford in the field but added oh so much flare to this endeavor.

As if Holmeses needed added flare.

"Agents, report," Q snapped the instant he was visible in the room. His briefcase hit the coffee table with a slam and he settled back on one heeled boot with a hand on his hip, a pose (and an outfit) carefully designed to command respect. The children were expectedly cowed. Q raised an eyebrow and the boy, the youngest, squeaked.

John stifled a snicker. The git.

At the quartermaster's sharp bark, every adult male in the room snapped commically to attention, some of whom were trying quite hard not to laugh. John Watson was the first to respond, swiftly followed by Gregory and Sherlock into a line on the other side of the coffee table where had Q stopped, amused, and waited patiently for them to salute. The detective trio were a bit out of sync but this, too, was choreographed for the children's amusement.

"Agent Lestrade, reporting!" Gregory waited a moment and then waved urgently at the other two with his free hand, hissing 'under' his breath, "C'mon, guys, hurry up!"

Absolutely in sync now, John and Sherlock come to attention on either side of Gregory, but John was the one who spoke for them both. "Agents Holmes and Watson, sir!"

Sherlock quipped, "At your service!" in a mock whisper under his breath. The children giggled. Q allowed his second eyebrow to join the first upward and Sherlock faked looking pathetically contrite. He tacked on a whispered, "Sir!"

The children giggled even harder.

Q relaxed his face and then saluted curtly. "Agents, we have new equipment to give out. Once you're all ready."

He waited a beat, and then a second.

And then sighed in an overly exasperated way. It was his turn to mock whisper, "Agent Joshua, Agent Jennifer! Are you going to join us or not?"

The little boy couldn't have looked more shocked if you had found him in a power plant.

"ME?!" he shrieked at a decibel reached only by six year olds.

In direct contrast, Jennifer groaned mournfully, but despite protest she obediently flounced across to join them in line (probably having taken flouncing lessons from Sherlock's frequent strops) and waited hand-upon-hip for her little brother to line up.

Bounce up, rather. Joshua took his place between Sherlock and his dad with enthusiasm reserved for the phrase _'uh, erm, please don't tell your mum about this'_.

All in all, things were shaping up quite nicely.

"As I was saying," Q continued with a falsely-severe expression. The effect was ruined by Sherlock's overly pained one, and even Jennifer felt her lips tremble at that. "As I was saying! Commander Sir Mycroft Fussypants has ordered me to create each of you these sets of equipment for our family holiday." Q turned the briefcase around to reveal five sets of custom childproof Double-O Agent equipment in recessed alcoves. All but one of the sets were wrapped in color-coded wrapping paper, and each was labeled with a hand-written Christmas card signed by both Q and Mummy.

And now for the kicker. Q cleared his throat. "Agents, your mission, should you choose to accept it--"

At this the younger boy began bouncing in place and pulling at his hair. "OH MY GAWWWWWD."

Q didn't miss a beat. "--will be to use these tools to the best of your ability to get Commander Fussypants to giggle. Without dignity. All. Holiday. Long."

"I'll do it!" Sherlock rallied, bringing cheers from the panicked little boy. "I'll stake my life on it!"

"Sir, yes sir!" John chimed in.

"Not even if my life depended on it," Jennifer snarked, and thankfully Joshua missed the truly nasty glare Gregory sent her way. The girl rolled her eyes (again, channeling stroppy Holmeses) and sighed. "I mean, sure, if my life depends on it. Which apparently it does."

"We're all in accord!" Gregory whooped, and then knelt at his son's side, holding the little boy's hands up to his face. He placed tiny little kisses on the tiny little fingers. "We are, aren't we, Joshy? Will you help us make Mycroft smile and laugh and bake us cookies?"

Sherlock snorted derisively, but his eyes were bright with mirth. "Oh now you're just bribing him! Shouldn't the thrill of the hunt--"

"And the good of the country!" John threw in with good cheer.

"--be enough for you? What kind of secret agent are you?"

A soft chuckle announced Mycroft's presence. "The kind that makes an excellent father," came the highly amused tones from the doorway. Gregory scooped Joshua up in his arms and 'used' him like a human shield, pretending to be comically surprised at the man's sudden appearance. "Hello to you too, Gregory, Joshua. Everyone. I see you all made it home alright."

"Welcome back, honeymuffin," Gregory said, eyes warm.

"Honeymuffin!" Joshua squealed with laughter, encouraged evermore by a sudden tickle attack from his dad. "He's not a honeymuffin!"

"Yus! He! Is!" He kissed Joshua's hair at each word. "He's my honeymuffin just like you're my honeycake and your sis is my honeybun!" He glanced up and met John and Sherlock's eyes from across the room, suddenly gleaming with devilry. "And John's my honeyscone and Sherlock's a cupcake!"

"A cupcake?!"

The consultant snorted inelegantly. "Dare I ask why I'm not also covered in beeswax and saccharine feelings?"

Gregory grinned. "No one would ever mistake you for being sweet, Sherlycakes."

The six year old erupted in laughter.

Q sat back with John on the edge of the proceedings, eyes sharp and amused in ways John had only seen once before.

"See something you like?" the ex-soldier asked with a knowing smile.

"How long until Mycroft asks for his hand, do you think?"

"Oh tonight, definitely."

"Yes, of course. I only meant before or after dinner."

And at that the two most long-suffering of the Holmes Clan shared a grin.


End file.
